


Fic: Therefore, Let Not Your Hearts Be Troubled

by LadyChi



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-12
Updated: 2010-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-26 13:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyChi/pseuds/LadyChi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written to this quote prompt for <span><a href="http://bitesize-bones.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://bitesize-bones.livejournal.com/"><b>bitesize_bones</b></a></span>: <i>"What really interests me is whether God had any choice in the creation of the world." --Albert Einstein</i>. The requestee wanted a scene with Brennan and a priest. (Or Booth and a priest). I wrote this prompt cause I really wanted to see Brennan have a positive interaction with someone of faith, other than Booth, without changing who she is.<br/>Booth had liked such places, she remembered. Called them things like "holy" and "sacred". He'd believed in mysteries incomprehensible to man and had accepted whole-heartedly the premise of a single man/god giving his life for humanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fic: Therefore, Let Not Your Hearts Be Troubled

  
**Therefore, Let Not Your Hearts Be Troubled**   


  
The church was nearly empty and smelt faintly of incense and candlewax. Above the altar, a large crucifix depicted graphically the death of the Christ, and an ornate tabernacle contained the Eucharist for Holy Communion. All of these things Brennan noted with the eye of an anthropologist as she tried to shake off her discomfort.

Booth had liked such places, she remembered. Called them things like "holy" and "sacred". He'd believed in mysteries incomprehensible to man and had accepted whole-heartedly the premise of a single man/god giving his life for humanity.

It had been three days, but she missed that. She missed his gut, his intuition, his comforting presence. This... ill-advised field trip was an attempt to reconnect with that on some level.

She sank into a pew and contemplated it. What exactly had Booth felt? Had he been compelled by some unknown Spirit? Or had he simply clung to childish imagery because it brought him comfort? What had he found in all of this... artifice?

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," a voice said behind her. "It's just that I'm going to lock the church up for the evening. You're more than welcome to stay, of course, but you won't be able to get back in once you leave."

"That's fine," Brennan said, rising to her feet and dusting off her pants. "Thank you."

"Excuse me, but... aren't you Doctor Temperance Brennan?"

It happened to her rarely -- novelists, unless they were JK Rowling, were hardly front-page celebrities, but every once in a great while, she encountered someone who would recognize her. She steeled herself but did not turn. "Yes."

"I was sorry to hear about Seeley." The priest sounded cautious, as though he were gauging her reaction.

Temperance whirled. "Did you know Booth?"

"I was his confessor for a number of years," the priest admitted. "I also happen to be a great lover of mystery novels, and yours in particular."

"Thank you," Brennan said distractedly. "Booth loved places like this."

"Yes, indeed." The priest folded himself up, as though his bones ached, into a pew, and patted the spot next to him. "He was a very pious man, when the mood struck him. As most of us are. It would be very difficult indeed to walk around reverent, all the time."

"Are you speaking about his moral indiscretions, as you would see them?"

The priest laughed. "No, I'm talking about his tendency to crack a hockey joke in the sacristy."

"Oh." Temperance sighed and sat down. "I'm sorry. My friend Angela tells me I've been more difficult than usual because of... well, everything. Apparently I don't handle emotional stress well."

"We're hard-wired to find the loss of another human being difficult, Dr. Brennan. It's okay to have trouble accepting it."

"Booth would tell me he's gone to a better place."

"You don't believe that?"

"No." Brennan fidgeted for a moment. "If there was a loving God, why would He take Booth? Why would He take anyone before their time?"

"I suspect that what you're really looking for is the answer to the age-old question: why do bad things happen to good people. Am I correct?"

"One could... condense my query to that, yes."

"You know, Dr. Brennan, I truly don't know. My faith tells me that everything happens for a reason -- that our merciful God has a plan and everything fits within that plan. You and I both know that's difficult to take in the face of something like this."

"So why accept it at all?" Brennan furrowed her brow. "Why accept something that offers only half-comfort?"

"Because the truth often isn't comfortable." The priest shrugged. "Nothing about faith is comfortable or comforting, Dr. Brennan. Except this one thing."

"What?"

"I believe, as I have to, that God created the world out of love, and that He redeemed it through love, and that His source of joy is the love we find in each other. Not just romantically but as friends, family, coworkers... partners. The very nature of Love is to create -- to build, not to destroy. Your relationship with Seeley. Would you replace it?"

Temperance shook her head. "No."

"To love is to know God. Even tangentially." The priest took her hand and squeezed it. "Seeley Booth lives on in you, Temperance. If you can't find him here, then look inside your heart. That's where he'll be."

Temperance opened her mouth, and then shut it. She could imagine, for she had a good imagination, Booth's presence in the pew next to her, squeezing her other hand. She was terrified to move, afraid that image would disappear.

The priest creaked to his feet and let go of her hand. "I'm closing the church. Stay as long as you need. Just blow out the prayer candles on your way out of the building, please."

"Yes, of course. Thank you..." she swallowed, for the first time not finding the term distasteful in her mouth, "...Father."

"You're welcome. God bless."

Eventually, the door shut, and Temperance sat, her hand open, absolutely still. 


End file.
